Girl: "Give her a few years! I'm one blunt away from doing it myself."
Emma: "Greetings, bitches. By the way, Norman already fucked her. It made me cry one lonely Indian Chief tear."
Girl: "I don't think you understood the conversation you were eavesdropping on, tbh."
Emma: "Or maybe you don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
Girl: "Or maybe we will gang up on you and stab you in the ill-working lung."
Emma: "Or maybe I'mma drop the mic and walk out of here like a boss."
It's pretty great. I mean, don't ever tell people things, but Emma's one constant virtue (among many) is disclosure, and this opens up a pretty rich vein throughout the whole episode where she just keeps saying true stuff and then getting out of it by saying more true stuff until you're like, This chick's honesty is the ultimate armor. Too bad the princess she keeps saving has been raised to lie about everything, at all times.
...Which is what makes me worry, actually. This town is Norma's oyster, in that everything she does is irritating: We always talk about it like the immune system of White Pine Bay, just erupting with horrors at the mere mention of her name. But Emma's lacking Norma's selfishness -- her errant warped sense of self-preservation -- and so all that comes through is this single-minded pursuit of the truth. They're both marked for death, but Emma's drives cut even closer to the bone if you think about it. She doesn't give a shit about what happens to her because she already knows what happens to her, so all that's left is the truth: The one thing the WPB hates more than a woman with property.
Staring holes in the internet is not causing that highway project to be canceled, and lighting black candles while chanting the names of the planning committee can only get you so far, so Norma decides to just double-down and fuck things up for herself as efficiently as possible.
Lady: "Distractingly beautiful admin lady at the WPBPD, what is your emergency?"
Norma: "My emergency is, I need to talk to my best friend Sheriff Romero!"
Lady: "He is not taking this call. Ever. Can you spell your name for me?"
Norma: "Uh, it's BATES. B as in bitch..."
Who's that down in the parking lot? Why, it's No. 9, creeping around in an all-black outfit in the middle of the day like some kind of angel of death. Does that worry her? No way, that's just what creeps do. Man, Dylan could not have been wronger about this guy. Maybe he can help with this civil engineering conundrum, Norma! Or tie you up and murder you! One or the other.